


Chariot

by BeepBeepSam



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Ben Hanscom Mentioned, Beverly Marsh Mentioned, Fluff, Hickeys, Kissing, M/M, Mike Hanlon Mentioned, No Angst, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 06:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20634332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepBeepSam/pseuds/BeepBeepSam
Summary: It's no secret that Stan and Bill like each other. At least it isn't to everyone else. The two mentioned remain absolutely clueless. However, all it takes is spilled coffee, a flat tire, and cinnamon twists for the two boys to figure it out.One-shot of Bill going crazy about Stan in his clothes and them finally getting together.





	Chariot

Stan is pretty sure this is the worst day he’s ever had.

It had started when he woke up late.

The thing is, Stan never oversleeps. He knows that falling into that temptation will only cause disaster, so every day at 5:00 a.m. he’s swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. He has his whole schedule down to the minute.

Take a shower at 5:05, get dressed at 5:30, start coffee at 5:40, dry and style hair at 5:45, start breakfast (plain toast and maybe a bowl of fruit) at 6:00, leave by 6:20, get to work by 6:45 with plenty of time for traffic. Every single morning for the last year and he’s never even been close to late.

Except this morning, when he wakes up, it’s 6:30. He has to be at work in 30 minutes and he hasn’t even brushed his teeth. He can feel the panic rising in his stomach as he practically flies out of bed, grabbing his clothes and shoes on his way. He’s attempting to change as he walks, and he does stop in the bathroom for no more than 1 minute before he’s running out the door, his shirt untucked, one shoe still off and his curls an unruly mess. He thankfully, remembers to grab his briefcase.

When he gets on the freeway, it should be just a one-way trip for him, he basically just gets on to have to get back off. But when he sees his usual turn blocked off with a bright orange “Detour” sign, he can practically feel the sob coming up in his chest.

It’s 6:45 and he’s having to go the long way to get to work. He’s already given up on getting there on time, now he’s just trying to limit the damage.

By the time he gets to work, his coworkers look in shock as he passes them. He can hear them whispering, no doubt about his wild bed hair and lack of usual care in his appearance. Probably also the shock of seeing Stanley Uris walking in 10 minutes after he’s supposed to clock in.

He swallows and sits down in his office chair, taking off his coat jacket to give him more room to work in, just hoping the rest of his day will go more smoothly. It’s Friday and if he can just get through this day, he can relax over the weekend and be back to his usual self by Monday.

However, after he’s been sitting there for about an hour, someone walks in and says loudly to the whole room, “Who drives a black 2017 Audi?”

Stan can practically feel his body deflate, just knowing that bad news was to come. Stanley raises his hand and the guy walks over.

“Hey, man, I was walking through the lot and I saw that your back-left tire is flat. I looked at it and you’re going to have to replace it. The puncture is right at the shoulder,” The guys says and claps Stan on the shoulder before walking away.

Stan sighs and rubs his temples. He had noticed that half of his ride to work had been bumpy, but he had chalked it up to the road since he was unfamiliar to it. He’s in no mood to deal with this. He can feel a migraine coming on. He’ll take a taxi home and come back the next day to fix it.

At lunchtime, he doesn’t feel hungry and even though he slept in over an hour, he feels exhausted from just how hard this day has been so far. He goes to the breakroom to make a late pot of coffee. He’s just walking out, blowing the steam off the top of his mug when one of his annoying coworkers walks into him because she was looking over her shoulder to talk to someone else.

She collides right into him and Stan can feel the hot coffee sinking into the fabric of his shirt, but he has the sense to pull it away from his body quickly before it burns him. The woman gasps and looks down in shock at the giant brown spot growing on the front of Stan’s white shirt from the coffee that had spilled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! That’s totally my bad,” She says and then just brushes by him, walking into the break room herself.

Stan stares at the spot on his shirt and swallows. He refuses to cry at work, but damn if he doesn’t have to work hard to keep it in. That’s it. He’s going home. He can’t do this.

He walks over to his boss’s office and knocks.

He hears confirmation to come in, so he enters. He has no idea what his face looks like, but one look at his boss’ lets him know that she picks up on his distress.

“Stan! Are you okay?” She asks and he almost nods from habit.

“Not really. Is there any way I can go home early? I’m not feeling good and I’m caught up for the week,” He says, praying to whatever god is out there to let his torture end.

His boss purses her lips and for a second, he thinks she’s going to force him to stay. But then she sighs. “Okay, Stanley. I’ll let you go home. Rest over the weekend and I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” She really does feel sorry for him. He’s a wonderful employee, never late, well, except for this morning, and it’s obvious he’s having a bad day. She watches as he sighs in relief and thanks her before walking out.

Stan walks to his desk to gather his stuff. He grabs his phone to call for a taxi, but with horror, he realizes he’s forgotten his wallet at home in his haste to leave this morning. He’ll have no way to pay for cab fare. He freezes and for a split second, he fears he’s going to have to walk home. It’d take about an hour or two, but he could do it.

But then he catches sight at what time it is and feels the smallest glimmer of hope that Bill might be out of his morning classes. Stan had graduated college last year, but Bill had changed his major a couple of times, delaying graduation for him for another year.

Bill’s the only one of the losers he would ask to come get him. It’s not that he didn’t trust the others, he just hates it when they see him at his worst. He knows he should feel the same about Bill, but he can’t help and seek Bill’s comfort when he’s feeling down.

He raises his phone and hesitantly sends Bill a text.

_Hey. _

Not even 20 seconds later, comes a response.

_Hey yourself._

Stan doesn’t smile but Bill’s playfulness is already making some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

_Are you out of class?_

_Yea, why?_

Stan pauses. He could just tell Bill to forget it instead of making him come out of his way to pick Stan up. He almost considers doing that but then his phone goes off again.

_Are you okay?_

Stan lets out a shaky breath as he responds.

_Not really. I kind of need a ride home._

_Be there in 5. _

Stan sighs in relief before he grabs his stuff and heads to the lobby to wait until he sees the familiar classic red corvette pull into the parking lot through the glass windows. He immediately walks out and Bill stops right in front of the doors, so Stan doesn’t have to walk too far before he opens the car door and climbs in.

Bill stares at Stan as he sets his stuff down and puts his seatbelt on. He’s surprised by Stan’s appearance, knowing how particular Stan can be about things like that.

“A-Are you okay?” He repeats, not yet driving away.

“Better than I was. I just want to go home and shower,” Stan breathes out and crosses his arms over his chest before grimacing at the stickiness that’s still on his shirt. Bill feels his heart tug at the look of discomfort and distress on Stan’s face.

“What’s w-wrong with your c-car?”

“Fucking flat tire. I don’t feel like dealing with it today,” Stan says and Bill nods, watching Stan’s car get smaller in the rear-view mirror as he finally drives away from Stan’s work. He doesn’t comment on the large stain on Stan’s shirt.

They ride in silence for a couple of minutes before Bill steals a glance to Stan in his passenger seat. He hates the dull lifeless look that has settled behind his eyes as he stares out the window and makes the impulsive decision to not let Stan out of his sight. He’s not going to let him be one his own. Not when he’s like this.

He doesn’t say anything about the decision but Stan notices when he doesn’t turn onto the right street to take him back to his.

“Bill? You missed your turn,” Stan points out.

“I’m t-taking you back to m-m-mine,” Bill responds, glancing at Stan out of the corner of his eye.

There’s a brief silence before Stan puzzledly asks, “…why?”

“Because I-I think you need s-s-some cheering up,” Bill responds easily.

“And how are you going to “cheer me up”?” Stan questions, turning to face Bill, more engaged in talking than he was before. It makes Bill feel better.

“With t-t-take out and movies a-and being with m-m-me,” Bill says and grins at Stan who breathes out a laugh. He sighs before looking down at his shirt.

“I don’t have any spare clothes at yours, and there’s no way I’m going to wear this all day,” He points out.

“Y-You can just w-wear some of mine,” Bill says easily, and smiles again, knowing he’s won when Stan rubs his face and sighs.

“Okay, Bill,” Stan finally agrees.

Bill reaches over to turn the radio, changing the station to something slow, letting the music fill the cab and give it a relaxing atmosphere. Stan gives him an appreciative smile when they meet each other’s eyes.

Bill pulls into his apartment’s parking lot. He’s only lived here for a few months, but he likes it. It’s not near as nice as Stan’s loft, but it works well enough for him and his needs. He parks and walks over to Stan’s side to take his things from him with some resistance from Stan. He just keeps moving, not listening to Stan’s complaints and after he’s walked a few steps, he hears Stan follow him.

Stan rolls his eyes at him when Bill holds the apartment door open for him, but Bill just laughs.

Bill sets Stan’s case and jacket on the table, among other random items that have been thrown onto the surface that Bill hasn’t bothered to clean up yet. The rest of the apartment is fairly clean, but that’s mostly because he isn’t home all that often. Even when he’s off, he spends most of his free time at one of the other loser’s places.

“Why d-d-don’t you take a shower a-and I’ll g-get you some clothes,” Bill suggests, and Stan quietly nods, heading towards the bathroom.

Bill waits until the door is closed, and he can hear the shower running before he goes to his room and pulls out his pajama drawer from his dresser. He grabs his favorite pair of sweats and an old baseball tee from high school, debating if he should grab some underwear, before grabbing a clean pair just in case. He takes the clothes and sets them down on the corner of the sink, trying really hard not to think about the fact that Stan was right behind that shower curtain with no clothes on.

He swallows and reaches to grab Stan’s dirty clothes. Even though they’re just going to be thrown in the wash, Stan had folded them and placed them on the other corner of the sink.

Bill takes the clothes and shuts the door behind him. He takes them to where the laundry room is and puts them in a load by themselves. Once the washer starts hissing, he does a quick walk around the main part of his apartment and bedroom, picking up any trash or dirty clothes he sees. The place starts to look a lot less shabby once he’s done and even though it’s not up to Stan’s own standards, he knows it will make the boy feel more relaxed.

He pulls out his phone to send Eddie a text.

_Hey, Eds. Any way you can swing by and switch out Stan’s tire for him? He’s got a flat. It’s at his work but I came to pick him up. I would do it, but Stan’s upset, and I want to keep an eye on him. _

_Yea, I’ll take a look at it._

_Thanks, man. _

_Is Stan okay?_

_I’m not sure. I think he’s just had a bad day. I’m going to look after him. _

_Oh really?_

_Shut up._

Just as he’s finishing, he hears the shower turn off. He orders pizza and the little cinnamon twists with icing that Stan seems to always like. He’s browsing through Netflix when the door opens, and Stan emerges in Bill’s clothes.

Bill hadn’t given it much thought when he had suggested Stan to borrow, but now he thanks god Stan spilled whatever it was on himself. Bill can barely tear his eyes off from the way the clothes hang just slightly off of Stan’s leaner frame. He feels his mouth run dry as his eyes run up and down Stan’s body.

“Bill?” Stans asks hesitantly. “What’s wrong? Do I look weird?” He questions and Bill can already see Stan’s arms rising to cross over his stomach to hide.

“N-N-Not at all,” Bill says quickly. “You l-look…” He trails off and Stan’s piercing gaze locks with his.

“Look what?” Stan pushes.

“Relaxed,” Bill decided on the safest answer.

“Oh…Thanks, I guess,” Stan says and looks down at himself. When he had first seen himself in the mirror, his heart had started to beat like crazy. He was secretly hoping he would be able to sneak away with these clothes. The idea of being on his own at home, letting his imagination run wild while he was in Bill’s clothes was almost too much for him. _He was wearing Bill’s underwear._

Stan walks over to sit next to Bill on the opposite side of the couch. Bill was laying against his armrest, with his feet resting on the other couch cushions. He lifts his legs to let Stan sit down and then places them on Stan’s lap, giving Stan a cheeky grin when Stan glares at him.

Stan just fondly rolls his eyes and sets one hand on Bill’s ankle and letting the other prop his head up from the armrest.

Bill flicks through the Netflix categories, looking to see Stan’s reactions on certain selections he pauses on. He comes across a new horror film and immediately feels drawn to it, but he knows Stan doesn’t like horror movies. But when he’s about to go to the next one, he hears Stan say softly, “We can watch this one,” and well, Bill’s not about to object to that.

He reaches over to grab a blanket he keeps on the couch because it gets cold in his apartment at times. He spreads it over his legs, making sure enough of it reaches Stan who pulls it over his lap and rests his hand back on Bill’s leg but over the blanket.

They sit and watch the movie in silence for a few minutes and Bill watches Stan out of the corner of his eye. He’s casually raised the blanket to his chin, ready to hide behind it if anything jumps out. It’s one of the main reasons Bill got the blanket but he can’t help but think how cute Stan looks. He chuckles when something happens on the screen that he doesn’t even see and Stan jumps.

Stan turns to glare at him, but then he laughs too.

The atmosphere turns much more casual even as the movie gets scarier. Stan begins to gently rub Bill’s feet through the blanket, more as a distraction than anything but Bill hums in appreciation.

They both jump when the doorbell rings, Stan in fear and Bill in getting off the couch to go answer the door. He notices the way Stan pauses the movie for him. He gives the delivery guy some cash, letting him keep the change as a tip before taking the food to the couch. He sets it down on the coffee table before making a quick trip to the kitchen to get plates and napkins.

Stan smiles at him when he hands him a plate and Bill ignores the way his heart thumps in his chest. They grab the pieces they want, and Bill sits in the middle of the couch, closer to Stan, something that Stan definitely notices. They eat and watch the movie for a little bit, and when Stan leans forward to grab another slice, he notices the cinnamon twists. He opens the box and Bill watches as his face literally lights up and Bill can feel himself smiling from knowing he made Stan happy with such a simple gesture.

“I didn’t know you ordered these,” Stan says as he grabs a few and the icing tub.

“I-I told you I w-w-was going to cheer y-you up,” Bill explains, grabbing a couple himself. “Don’t h-hog all the i-icing,” He teases and reaches over to dip his twist, but Stan holds the icing out of the way. A small playfight engages, but they’re careful of the food on their laps. Bill violently pokes Stan in his side and Stan yelps and as he holds his side in defense, Bill easily grabs the icing back.

They giggle for a few seconds before Bill scrapes out 1/3 of the icing, leaving the rest for Stan before he gives it back. When they’re done, Bill takes their plates to the kitchen and puts the leftover food in the fridge.

When he comes back, Stan is sitting closer to the middle of the couch. When Bill looks at him curiously, Stan admits “I think I’m more scared of this movie than I thought I would be,” and Bill nods, sitting next to Stan.

It’s not like they haven’t cuddled before. They’re best friends. Bill’s cuddled with almost all of his friends. Plus, Stan always likes to bury his head in something when he’s scared; Bill’s seen him do it to both Richie and Bev. It doesn’t mean anything.

He holds up his arm, and Stan crawls into his side. Bill stiffly puts his arm back down, wrapping it around Stan’s shoulders. He hates himself for thinking how well Stan fits. He has no clue that Stan sits right beside him, thinking the exact same thing.

He tightens his grip when Stan tenses up. He has to stop himself from leaning down to place a kiss on Stan’s forehead. His hand slides down a little on Stan’s arm and he swallows at how soft it is. But he also notices how cold his skin is, so he grabs the blanket again and buries them underneath it.

“Thanks, Bill. I feel a lot better,” Stan says quietly after some time. Bill gives him a soft smile and squeezes him in an almost side hug.

The movie ends so Bill puts on an episode of Friends. It’s the losers’ favorite thing to watch together even though they’ve probably all seen every episode three times. He almost expects Stan to sit up since they’re no longer watching anything scary, but he stays put which makes Bill happy. Stan is so relaxed that after the first episode, Bill looks down to see he’s fallen asleep.

Bill allows himself to gaze at the sleeping boy. Stan’s curls are pressed into his shoulder and against his forehead. His cheeks look a little flushed from being under the blanket and snuggled up to Bill for so long. There’s a little part in his lips as he sleeps and Bill swears he can hear the faintest whistle.

This time, Bill does lean down to place the softest kiss on top of Stan’s head. “He’s beautiful,” He thinks and sighs, forcing himself to look away. A couple of episodes play and finish before Stan wakes up. He starts to shift, and Bill pulls his arm back when Stan actually does sit up.

It’s just starting to get dark, the light outside casting the living room in a hazy orange. Bill feels almost awestruck when some of the light shines through a part in the curtain and hits Stan. Stan doesn’t seem to realize how he looks like he’s glowing and when he turns to face Bill, with his golden eyes only highlighted by the light reflecting on them, Bill’s breath catches. Stan reaches up to fix his hair, but Bill’s hand shoots out first to stop him. Stan stills and frowns.

“What?” He asks.

“You’re beautiful,” Bill says without thinking, and Stan's face flushes.

“Oh, um…thanks,” he says and ducks his head slightly, not able to meet Bill’s eyes. He’s never been this bashful before but Bill calling his beautiful has made his face heat up so fast, he just knows it’s got to be a deep red.

Bill, who slowly lets his hand fall from Stan’s wrist, chuckles awkwardly. They stare at each other intensely for about 5 seconds before they're kissing. Neither of them is even sure who moved first or if they both leaned in at the same time, but they both can’t help but think, “Fucking finally.”

Their lips press together in a desperate need to be closer than they already are. Stan feels when Bill’s hands grab onto his waist, digging his fingers into the fabric to pull him closer. In response, his own hands come up, one on the side of Bill’s neck, the other to the back of his head, pulling him in.

Their lips connect and disconnect, as they get into a rhythm they both like, slow, intense, and sensual.

Stan parts his lips and Bill’s tongue is there, sliding in to meet his own and Stan groans at the feeling. Before, he hadn’t been a big fan of kissing. He found it boring and kind of gross at times, but now. He’s pretty sure he could kiss Bill for hours and not get tired of it.

He hasn’t even noticed they’ve moved backward, forcing Stan to prop himself up on the armrest as Bill basically lies on top of him. He grabs a fist of hair and tugs, hearing and feeling Bill hum in approval. He allows Bill to basically assault his mouth, not that he isn’t loving every second of it, but when Bill moves away and starts to trail gently kisses down his jaw and towards his neck, he speaks.

“Bill,” He whispers, staring up at the ceiling.

Bill immediately stops and pulls himself off of Stan. Stan has to shut his eyes when Bill pops back up into his line of sight. His hair is a mess from where Stan had grabbed it and his lips are red and kissed swollen. Stan vaguely wonders that he must look the same and he reaches down to pull his- Bill’s shirt down from where it had ridden up.

“Shit, I-I’m s-s-so sorry, Stan,” Bill says and moves to the other side of the couch. Stan tries to hide the hurt look as Bill practically runs away from him.

“Sorry?” He asks quietly, fearing that his feelings are about to be a lot more hurt.

“I shouldn’t of t-taken advantage of y-you like that. You’re h-h-having a bad day and I j-just jumped you, I’m s-sorry,” Bill says and from his side of the couch, he leans his elbows on knees, and grips his hair in aggravation. 

Stan looks at him in silent shock. That wasn’t the answer he had been expecting in his head. His answer had gone more like, “S-Sorry, Stan, I think w-we should just b-b-be friends.”

Feeling brave in a way he hasn’t in awhile he says, “What if I wanted you to kiss me?”

Bill turns his head to look at him. His eyes are attentive like he’s trying to read what must be a lie on Stan’s face.

“Did you?” He asks and Stan nods.

“Yea, I did.” He sees the way Bill almost laughs in disbelief before he continues. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a long time.”

This time, it’s Stan who moves. He gracefully slides from his spot on the couch to sit next to Bill again, their thighs touching each other. He breathes out shakily, glancing at Bill’s lips before looking at Bill’s eyes. Bill must have been doing the same because those baby blue eyes look up to meet his just a couple seconds later. Stan hasn’t missed the way Bill’s whole body has turned toward him.

“Have you wanted to?” He whispers, feeling his hands shake lightly and his heart beating fast, too fast. He almost feels sick from asking, but they’re at this point and he needs to know. Bill takes his hand, having noticed the shaking. It’s practically the only sign that Stan’s just as nervous as he is.

“For so long,” He assures and presses their lips together again. It’s much more simple and shorter this time. Almost like a peck that just lasts a couple of seconds too long. When Bill pulls back, he takes the hand he’s still holding and presses a kiss to Stan’s knuckles, making the boy look at him with so much affection it almost knocks the breath out of him.

“Well, Denbrough, you definitely went all out on cheering me up today,” Stan jokes to cover the silence and Bill just laughs in disbelief, pressing their lips again, just because he can. Stan follows him when he leans back, and this time, it’s Stan climbing on top of Bill as he swings a leg over Bill’s lap to straddle him. They make out, but their kisses are worshipful instead of desperate. They take the time to map each other’s mouth, finding what makes the other respond in certain ways.

Bill, who had his hands back on Stan’s waist (he’s obsessed with the small love handles there), moves his hands underneath Stan’s- His shirt, to feel the hot skin. He feels Stan shudder above him and lets his thumbs rub back and forth in a soothing manner. This time when Bill starts to kiss Stan’s neck, Stan leans his head back to let him.

Bill opens his mouth and gently bites, hearing Stan’s breath hitch when he starts to slightly suck. Stan’s hands are both in his hair, but he’s just running his fingers through it instead of gripping or pulling. He works on this mark for a couple of minutes, pulling back to find a new patch of skin to ravish. Each time, he finishes it with the tenderest of kisses. After about the third or fourth mark, he’s lost count, Stan grabs his jaw to guide him back to his mouth. He kisses him, tilting his head and grabbing Stan harder to pull him closer.

He can feel himself getting heated as the weight of Stan in his lap and the feeling of his mouth on his really starts to do it for him. He pulls back and leans up to press a kiss to Stan’s forehead, finally giving in to what he wanted to do earlier.

Stan hums and slides off of Bill’s lap, but stays close to him, pressed to his side. Friends has continued to play in the background, and they both give off the pretense of watching it but they’re both hyperaware of the other and all the places they’re touching.

Every once in awhile, one of them will lean over to press a kiss to any piece of the other they can reach. They may have made out a couple times more, seeming unable to keep their hands off of each other for too long. When they aren’t kissing, their hands are intertwined, with small squeezes passing back and forth between them.

After a while, Bill takes a look at his phone and realizes how late it is. He’s hesitant to get up, afraid that once he does, the bubble they’ve been living in will burst and they’ll go back to the way it was before, calling this night a fluke, a lapse in judgment.

But he knows they can’t stay there all night.

“I-I should probably s-s-shower,” He says reluctantly, giving Stan a guilty glance. Stan gives him a small smile and presses a kiss to the back of Bill’s hand, much like Bill had done earlier to his.

“Okay,” He says and responds when Bill leans down to press one more kiss to his lips before he heads to the bathroom.

Stan watches him go and when the door shuts behind him, he can’t stop the huge smile that grows on his face. He just kissed Bill Denbrough. Multiple times. Christ, he sat in the man’s lap. He was practically shaking with giddiness when he reaches over to grab his phone. He hears the shower come on and tries to stop smiling, but each time he thinks about the evening, it comes back. Oh, how the night is the polar opposite of his morning. That almost feels like a lifetime ago. He unlocks his phone and shoots Richie a text.

_I have something to tell you and you have to promise not to tell anyone. _

_Sounds serious, Stan the Man._

_I am serious, Richie. You have to promise. You can’t even tell Eddie. _

_Okay, okay, I promise. What is it?_

_Bill kissed me tonight. _

_Shit. _

Stan frowns at the response. He had expected Richie to be just a little bit happier for him. Richie was the only one he told about liking Bill. His answer comes back soon enough.

_Couldn’t you have waited till New Years? Now I owe Bev $50. _

_You BETTED on me and Bill kissing? How the hell does Bev know?_

_Jesus, babe, you’re not subtle. But, hey, I am happy for you dude. It’s about time you guys got your shit together. _

_What do you mean? _

_Wow, for as much as you call me an idiot, you are painfully oblivious. Bill’s liked you for, like, years. _

_What? No, he hasn’t. _

_Right. And I bet you didn’t know that he had a work meeting and a date today that he canceled after receiving three texts from you. I was with him. _

Stan pursed his lips. A date? If Bill had liked him as Richie said, why would he be going on a date with someone else?

_I know what you’re thinking Stanley. But let me ask you this. Why did you go out with that Steve guy when you had told me about you liking Bill just the day before? _

Stan remembers that. It had been about a year after he had first realized he had a crush on Bill. Bill had dated a few people by then and each time Stan saw him with someone else, he had felt a little sick. He had thought that telling Richie about it would help, but it hadn’t done much. He had agreed to go on a date with a guy that he’d been lab partners with, hoping to get over his infatuation with Bill.

Turns out it was the worst date of his life. The guy had shown up late, accidentally shut the car door on Stan’s hand and had fractured two of his fingers. The rest of the date had been spent in the emergency room. There wasn’t a second date, and since, Stan had stuck to nameless one-night stands. He vaguely remembers how pissed Bill had been when he had seen Stan’s wrapped hand. The thought made him smile.

_He really likes me?_

_Why don’t you ask him? _Richie texts him, followed by a _GO GET YO MAN._

Almost on cue, the water shuts off. Stan turns off his phone and sits back on the couch more casually. A couple of minutes later, Bill walks out in only sweats, toweling his hair.

Stan has to control his expression because he’s sure if he didn’t his mouth would literally drop open. His eyes follow a drop of water the falls down Bill’s chest. It’s no secret that Bill’s fit. He was on the baseball team all four years of high school and still regularly goes to the gym with Ben and Eddie. Bill catches him staring and smirks as he walks to the kitchen to get a drink. Stan gets up to follow him, almost in a daze.

“Do y-you want one?” Bill gesturing to the bottled water he has in his fridge. Stan nods without thinking, but he does suddenly feel very thirsty. Bill grabs two bottles and hands one to Stan before twisting the lid off of his. He stares at Stan over the rim as he drinks and Stan eyes the way his Adam’s apple moves when he swallows. He opens his own bottle to take a drink when he tilts his head back to take a drink, he hears Bill choke.

“Holy s-shit, your n-neck,” Bill says in shock. Stan immediately covers his neck with his hand, hiding whatever it is Bill sees. He can feel the soreness when his hand makes contact. Bill sets his drink down and strides over to gently pull Stan’s hand away. He examines the bruises he left behind and looks up to meets Stan’s eyes briefly before leaning down and softly kissing each one.

“I think-” Stan clears his throat. “I think we should talk.”

Bill pulls away and sighs. He rubs the back of his neck and nods. “I should probably put on a shirt first,” He jokes, and Stan would love to disagree, but he knows Bill’s bare torso is just going to distract him at this point.

Stan takes their drinks to the living room and sits back down on the couch. He eyes where they had been sat earlier and heat rushes through him when he thinks of all that they did.

It’s a relief when Bill walks in and sits down.

Neither of them talks for a few seconds before they both do at the same time.

“I r-really like you, S-Stan.”

“What does this mean for us?”

They chuckle and Stan looks at Bill softly. “I really like you too, Bill. Like, in a more than friends way.”

Bill gives him a weird look, “I really h-hope all this k-k-kissing didn’t make y-you think we w-were just friends.”

Stan snickers, but the laughter dies on his lips. “Then what are we?” He asks, getting more serious.

Bill takes his hand again as he scoots closer, “What d-d-do you want t-to be?”

Stan can feel Bill’s breath on his lips as he leans closer. “Bill,” he says quietly.

“Tell me,” Bill murmurs, right against his lips.

“I want to be yours,” Stan states, freezing, waiting for Bill to pull back and laugh, claiming that this was just physical thing. But instead, Bill kisses him.

“Then I’m y-yours, too,” He says, and they both smile against each other’s lips. The rest of the night passes by in a blur. Bill’s shirt ends up off again so Stan can appreciate the way it looks and feels (and tastes) from a closer distance. All of Stan’s- Bill’s clothes stay on, but the shirt ends up bunched under his arms as Bill takes his time to memorize that part of Stan’s body. It’s a mutual agreement that’s as far as they’ll go tonight, both of them wanting to take this slow.

“It’s late,” Stan says at one point. He’s laying on his back on the couch cushions with Bill laying half on top of him. He’s gently running his hand up and down Bill’s back. It’s completely dark outside, has been for a while and the only light source comes from the kitchen and the T.V. which had stopped automatically playing a long time ago and they’re just laying there silently, soaking in each other’s presence. “I should probably go home.”

“Or y-you can s-stay here,” Bill mumbles, relaxed in his current position.

“Or I could do that,” Stan easily agrees and they both laugh softly.

A little bit after that, Bill stands up and holds his hand out for Stan to take. Stan slides his hand into Bill’s, letting Bill pull him to his feet.

Bill doesn’t let go of his hand as turns off the T.V. and the kitchen light, before guiding them to his room. He watches Stan climb into his bed first, before turning on the lamplight on his nightstand, and turning off the main one. The lamp is nowhere near as bright and the light is just enough so they can see each other.

They lay on their sides, studying each other, occasionally leaning in for small kisses. Bill reaches up to lightly wrap small curls around his fingers before letting them spring loose.

“S-Seeing you in my c-clothes really drove m-me crazy today,” Bill admits in a whispered tone, not wanting to disrupt the calm atmosphere.

“I thought about stealing them,” Stan admits himself, feeling the heat travel his neck at the admission and Bill smiles fondly at him.

“You can s-steal all the clothes y-you want,” Bill promises.

“I told Richie about kissing you,” Stan whispers after a while.

“What d-did he say?” Bill hums in response.

“Said he made a bet with Bev about how long it’d take us. He lost,” Stan smiles but frowns slightly when Bill’s head looks up at that. “What?”

“Eddie said the e-exact same thing, except h-h-he lost to Mike,” Bill says, and they laugh.

“Are we gonna tell them? Y’know, that we’re…” Stan trails off.

“Boyfriends?” Bill finishes helpfully. Hopefully.

“Is that okay?” Stan asks.

“Anything y-you want is totally f-fine with me,” Bill whispers and closes his eyes, pulling Stan closer to him, so they’re chests press together.

They both smile as they, finally, fall asleep in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I take prompts for any ship. My tumblr is the-ben-handsome <3


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